


Intervention

by Miicah



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing, Team as Family, The whole squad's here, save for paris but he doesn't count lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miicah/pseuds/Miicah
Summary: Modern AU. The squad decides to visit Benvolio while he's on shift at the local bar and it goes about as well as you'd expect.





	Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> A MILLION YEARS LATER here's my bar AU fic that I said I was gonna write lmao
> 
> Despite going to a bar there is actually very little drinking shown I'm dead.
> 
> Mercutio is a godsend tbh he's the real MVP here. Also I love the squad so please enjoy!

“This is an intervention.”

Rosaline managed to stop herself from smacking a hand against her forehead (albeit barely), but she couldn’t hold back the long suffering sigh that escaped from her lips at Mercutio’s words.

It was Friday night, and she, her sister and her cousin were gathered in the apartment Romeo, Benvolio and Mercutio shared. Benvolio was absent, though, working a shift at the bar on the other side of town—which apparently was the problem, at least for Mercutio.

(Those four words, in hindsight, were the first warning signs of how the rest of the night was going to unfold.)

“I’m pretty sure the person we’re intervening actually needs to _be_ here, bro,” Romeo pointed out with a laugh from his place on the couch, an arm stretching across the backrest behind Juliet’s head, who leaned against him from her place by his side.

Not one to be deterred by details, Mercutio easily solved the problem by saying, “Then we shall bring the intervention to Ben!” As if that wasn’t how it was supposed to be in the first place.

“Why exactly do we need to intervene again?” Juliet asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

“I think this is the first time in my entire life that I’ve heard practically all tenses of a word used in a single conversation,” Livia whispered to her sister, leaning in from her perch on the arm of the loveseat Rosaline sat in.

“Can we add ‘intervened’ to the list so we can put this behind us?” Rosaline whispered back, causing Livia to giggle.

Clearing his throat loudly when he realized the Capulet sisters weren’t listening to him, Mercutio grinned as Livia straightened and Rosaline rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad you asked, fair Juliet, because this is an issue dear to us all. When was the last time any of you saw Benvolio Montague?”

“…How is this relevant?”

“At lunch today, when he picked my sis—Ow! Rosaline, did you just _pinch_ me?”

“I saw him when I came over to visit Romeo this afternoon.”

“Like just before he left for work, dude, you were there.”

Though the answers he received were at most a few hours ago, Mercutio acted as if it had been weeks since any of them laid eyes on him. “Is it not a travesty that we have gone so long without Ben? Don’t you miss our Friday night bar hops? Our Saturday afternoon paintball battles against Tybalt and his sorry excuse of a squad? Our Sunday brunches?” His voice got increasingly higher at each question he directed at Romeo.

“I _do_ miss watching Tybalt fall into a raging tailspin at your taunting puns—no offense, Jules,” Romeo added, having enough sense to remember this was his girlfriend’s cousin they enjoyed pissing off.

Juliet waved her hand to brush aside Romeo’s considerate concerns. The animosity between their families was nothing new, and though they all tried to be civil with her and now Rosaline dating a Montague it wasn’t something that could go away that easily, if ever completely, but it was a start.

After a chance encounter at a paintball field the guys found a new, _legal_ way to take out their aggression on one another. It beat having to bail them all out of jail for street brawls. Juliet actually found it cute that they agree to meet at all, and regularly at that. “You’re good, babe,” she reassured Romeo, giving him a peck on the lips for good measure.

Smiling into the kiss, Romeo returned his attention to Mercutio, continuing their topic of conversation now that he knew he wasn’t going to be in the dog house for it. “Your puns distract him and I can get a headshot. The ‘emotionally constipated’ one was gold.”

“‘I haven’t given a shit in days’,” Mercutio finished the pun, and he and Romeo burst out laughing, fist bumping each other.

Rosaline had to clap her hands to get them to calm down; it was now on her to wrangle them with Benvolio absent. That, and she had to do something to stop herself from smiling; admittedly that was a good one. Tybalt would have her head at the thought and she didn’t want to give these goofballs the satisfaction. “Children, _focus_.” With no plans her night was free and she had a book with her name on it; the faster they finished this the faster she could curl up and start reading it.

“You’re a spoilsport, Capulet; the family resemblance is striking. It’s a wonder Ben doesn’t date Tybalt instead, save for the fact that I’d kill him myself if he did. Please give your cousin my regards,” Mercutio added with a wink—Livia had to stop Rosaline from lifting the middle finger at him; there was a backhanded compliment in there somewhere—before trying to get back on track.

“Juliet, don’t you miss hearing our about adventures with Ben, or him grabbing that snack on the top shelf that’s _just_ out of Romeo’s reach?”

Juliet giggled and Romeo lifted his hands up as if to say, ‘What the hell?’ His facial expression wasn’t any friendlier, scrunched in a way that questioned the call out and promised retribution at the same time.

Mercutio sniggered, unperturbed by the unspoken threat, before turning his gaze back to Rosaline. “And don’t _you_ miss—”

Rosaline lifted an eyebrow, _daring_ Mercutio to finish his sentence. In true Mercutio fashion, he constantly picked fun at her relationship with Benvolio, and though he did the same with Romeo and Juliet it just seemed more _cutting_ when done to them and she couldn’t figure out why.

Something flickered through Mercutio’s eyes then, something Rosaline couldn’t put her finger on, but it wasn’t favourable. Livia must’ve noticed it, too, for she promptly broke the silence that followed their eye staring contest.

“So what am _I_ doing here?” Livia half-joked, preempting any rhetorical questions Mercutio would send her way about how _she’d_ miss Benvolio. Though she considered herself friends with Romeo, Benvolio and Mercutio because her cousin and her sister were dating two thirds of the trio and her girlfriend was related to the other third, she was clearly not going to be as ‘affected’ by Benvolio’s absence as the others were apparently supposed to be.

“Moral support,” the other four answered simultaneously.

Juliet she could understand—she and her sister had labeled her a lost cause when she was around her boyfriend and his friends—but hearing _Rosaline_ speak in tandem with them caused Livia to give her sister an incredulous look.

Rosaline looked just as shocked as Livia felt—she didn’t think she’d reach the point of being in sync enough with Romeo and Mercutio to be able to say the same things at the same time so soon, if ever. She blamed Benvolio, honestly, for it was because of him that she spent enough time with these idiots to end up in this position. The things she did for him.

As Romeo and Mercutio looked at each other and laughed, wondering how that happened as well, and as Juliet gave her a huge smile as if to welcome her to the other side, Rosaline turned towards Livia and pulled her down so they could speak in hushed tones, pointedly trying to ignore the lot of them.

“Clearly I need it. They’re going to be even more insufferable now and I can only tolerate them for so long without Benvolio here as a buffer.”

“As a buffer, or a distraction? Because ‘his eyes are so expressive that I feel like I could drown in the emotion of them’ sounds like he’s doing more than just acting like a buffer to me.”

Rosaline pulled away far enough to look at Livia, because that quote sounded a lot like what she had written in her _private_ journal but— “Isabella should know that hacking is illegal and that she has a huge mouth and that I’m going to kill her the next time I see her.”

“I rather you didn’t; that huge mouth of hers as other, more pleasurable uses I assure you.” Laughing as Rosaline groaned and buried her face in Livia’s lap, Livia played with sister’s curls while she continued to speak. “Aside from the fact that you obviously need a password Izzy can’t crack in less than five tries, and that I’d never hear about any of this otherwise—”

“You know I’m a very private person. And I was going to tell you guys...eventually.” And maybe there were just some aspects about Benvolio and their relationship that she didn’t want to share ever because she wanted to keep those solely to herself to treasure selfishly...but saying that would get Livia squealing and then everyone would crowd around them for details which was the exact opposite of what she wanted. “Also, I’m switching to a physical journal.”

“—Izzy’s just really happy for you, you know?” Livia finished as if Rosaline hadn’t interrupted her. “She never really got to experience all the gushing over Escalus because he was her brother and that would’ve been weird as fuck, especially if you got into all the things he did in bed; like, we’ve heard about Benvolio’s talented tongue—”

“Did I hear tongue?” Mercutio butt in, having gotten to his feet from his seat on the coffee table in front of the couch—that surface needed to be disinfected now, Rosaline would have to remind Benvolio, because who knew where Mercutio’s ass has been as of late really—and approached them close enough to hear the end of their conversation, grinning knowingly and wiggling his eyebrows.

Three guesses as to who they heard about Benvolio’s tongue from. And the first two didn’t count.

Did all of them gather around to discuss her and Benvolio? Even as Rosaline thought it she didn’t know why she was surprised at the possibility—she wouldn’t put it past them, honestly.

(That moment of thought was the second warning.)

Knowing this wasn’t going to lead anywhere good if she let them continue on this topic, Rosaline decided to turn things back on Mercutio. “Yeah; why don’t you use _your tongue_ and answer Juliet’s question straight up? You _know_ having a job and making his own money is important to Benvolio. Do you really wanna confront him in hopes of getting him to quit just so you can hurl paint at Tybalt?”

The look Mercutio gave her then was a complete 180 than the one from earlier—it seemed almost _approving_ —but before Rosaline could really decipher it and what prompted it he was sighing dramatically, planting himself on the other arm of the loveseat Rosaline was sitting in.

“ _No_ ,” Mercutio admitted, which must’ve been painful for him because he grimaced. “But it’s our last summer before our final year of uni and before we’ll have to start adulting for reals and I know we _all_ have been missing him because the little time between him waking up in the afternoon and him heading for work is _not_ enough and so I suggest we kill two birds with one stone and hang out at Ben’s bar!”

Rosaline knew Mercutio was trying to be sly, saying that entire sentence in one breath hoping she wouldn’t catch the tail end of it, but even as she shook her head and said, “Absolutely not!” the others had cheered in agreement, drowning her objection out.

“Majority rules!” Romeo cried out as he jumped to his feet and reached a hand out towards Juliet to help pull her up. Rosaline rolled her eyes right over to Livia, knowing her sister had betrayed her. To her credit, Livia shrugged sheepishly instead of pretending she didn’t know why she had drawn Rosaline’s ire.

“It’s Friday night, Ros, and I’m here instead of with Izzy! If you expect me to morally support you while sober you’ve got another thing coming.”

They both knew there would be no moral support of any kind once Livia got a couple shots in her, and Rosaline sighed at the daunting task awaiting her; it had been a while since she had to mother hen everyone solo, too used to double-teaming it with Benvolio as they have been for a while now.

Mercutio placed both of his hands upon Rosaline’s shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze in an attempt to be comforting. “Cheer up, Capulet; what’s the worst that could happen?”

(That was the third and final warning, the only one Rosaline caught on to because they were, after all, famous last words. But even it couldn’t prepare her for what was coming.)

* * *

The bar Benvolio worked at, the Globe, was one of those bars that was upscale enough to have its own bouncers. Though that meant better tips for him, it also meant that Rosaline would actually have to put effort in getting ready for their night out of town.

Thankfully (though the jury was still out on that), Juliet and Livia were all too happy to help, promising that she’d be so stunning that Benvolio would be breaking glasses left and right because he’d be so distracted. Rosaline had tried to tell them that she didn’t stop Mercutio from trying to convince Ben to quit just to have her get Ben fired instead, but they brushed aside her concern, assuring her it’d be fine.

Rosaline was dubious about that but conceded; maybe just _one_ glass wouldn’t be so bad.

After picking up the boys—Rosaline seemed to be the perpetual designated driver—they headed for the Globe and queued up to enter the bar. It took longer to actually head inside than reach the front of the line because Romeo and Mercutio made a fuss about the bouncer not needing to see their I.D. after Juliet and Livia had been carded ahead of them.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t need to see them? Don’t let the beard fool you; I’m really quite young and dashing,” Mercutio said charmingly, running a hand along his jawline and ending with a million watt grin and a wink.

“He certainly acts like a child,” Rosaline muttered from her place in line behind them and gracefully avoided the leg Mercutio kicked back towards her as if this was a dance they did often.

“We’re just trying to help you out, bro. If we get in there and they call the police because they think we’re underage you’re gonna have to explain yourself,” Romeo tried to reason, waving his driver’s license in front of the bouncer enticingly.

The bouncer uncrossed his his arms, pointedly ignoring the I.D.’s in his face, and leaned into Mercutio and Romeo. “How about I call them now and save us all the trouble?”

Mercutio and Romeo took a step back as if they were physically affected by the bouncer’s words. “Whoa, chill man! Why you gotta bring the heat like this?” Romeo asked as Juliet reached for his arm to pull him forward, apologizing to the bouncer, while Livia did the same with Mercutio. The bouncer made a point of stopping and asking Rosaline for her I.D., loud enough for Romeo and Mercutio to hear, and Rosaline smiled smugly as she presented it, loving the man’s level of pettiness.

It had done the trick if Romeo and Mercutio fighting against Juliet and Livia’s grips were anything to go by, and Rosaline had to put her hands on each of their backs to push the boys forward.

“Did you see that? That was sexism or some shit, right? Esc would have a field day, we should call him!” Mercutio ranted, twisting to look back at the bouncer.

“Escalus would probably be carded himself and then where would you be?” Rosaline pointed out, knowing how much more higher the chances of them getting into trouble would be if their group grew even bigger.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Livia commented, releasing her hold on Mercutio after a few steps when she was sure he wasn’t going to run back and start a fight.

“Yes, let’s _not_ get kicked out of the bar before we even get inside,” Juliet suggested through the smile she plastered on her face, moving her hand so that it wrapped around Romeo’s arm instead.

“I don’t look that old, do I Jules?” Romeo asked her, genuinely worried, as he absentmindedly placed a hand on top of the one Juliet had around his arm. “I think it was the lighting; it was hitting my cheekbones wrong.”

“I know, babe, the lighting was too harsh; candlelight makes you look so much more ethereal.”

Livia looked back at them with a raised brow—who even _did_ things by candlelight anymore—but Rosaline had stopped listening to them since Juliet mentioned them getting kicked out, slowing to stop at the revelation. Why didn’t she think of that?

“On second thought, let’s go back—” Rosaline started, but was cut of as Juliet and Romeo closed the small distance between them and grabbed an arm each, pulling her up to join them.

“Rosaline, no!” Romeo and Juliet said in unison, and Rosaline huffed but didn’t put up a fight as they dragged her along with them; she said it half in jest, but it was saying something if _Romeo_ was telling her not to do something problematic.

It wasn’t hard to spot Benvolio once they finally stepped foot inside; with the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up, he had gathered a crowd around his end of the long bar as he put on a show mixing drinks.

(Though Rosaline knew it was a dress code, and knew better than anyone else how _good_ he looked in black, she had gradually been trying to get Benvolio to wear other colours ever since she found out the subconscious reasoning behind it in what was supposed to be a joking observation that stopped being funny very quickly.

“I guess I’m just...mourning my parents? The loss of them, honouring them by never forgetting…” Benvolio had explained with a sheepish shrug and an even more abashed laugh.

Rosaline’s heart had ached painfully in her chest, and she had shifted closer to him as if to show him that she was here, that he wasn’t alone, and it irritated her that wasn’t _enough_ . “You’re allowed to be _happy_ , Ben,” she had told him, voice thick with the tears she was trying to hold back because she knew Benvolio would start to fuss over her and this wasn’t about _her_ —

—And Benvolio smiled then, tiny but brilliant, his eyes full of mirth as it always seemed to be when he realized he knew something she didn’t and was amused because he had thought it was so obvious.

“I know that now, Ros; that’s why I asked you to be mine.”)

Shaking the remnants of the memory away, Rosaline’s eyes slid from Benvolio to the horde before him, frowning slightly at how they seemed more like fawning fans than paying customers. And the one at the front of the pack seemingly keeping the others at bay was— “Stella?”

“Rosaline!”

Rosaline, along with Livia and everyone else they were with, turned towards the owner of the voice, and found Escalus standing and waving them over from a half-crescent booth; Isabella was in the seat next to him, smiling welcomingly.

“Izzy!” Livia yelled, and she and Mercutio led the group over to them.

“You got a booth, sweet,” Mercutio whistled, giving Escalus a bro hug as Livia greeted Isabella with a kiss.

 

“Oh, yes, please join us,” Isabella said wryly as Mercutio seated himself without prompt, and after everyone else had exchanged pleasantries with the Prince siblings they all sat down and filled out the entire booth. “It’s not as if we were waiting for anyone important or anything.”

“Like you’d meet anyone even remotely important at a bar,” Mercutio scoffed as he reached for the menu that was standing in the middle of the table and began looking through the appetizers. “Funnily enough I was just talking about you, Esc.”

Escalus let out a laugh. “Something good, I hope.”

Before Mercutio could respond, Rosaline jumped in. “Did you get asked for I.D.?”

Escalus’ eyebrows knitted together in confusion; what did that have to do with anything? “We all did...why?”

Instead of answering, Mercutio cursed and Rosaline let out a triumphant laugh—she should’ve put some money on it.

“What _are_ you guys doing here?” Juliet asked from her spot between Livia and Romeo.

“Well, I picked up Stella from her dance studio…” Escalus started, turning to look over at his sister.

“And I thought we could turn it into a double date,” Isabella finished, waving her phone as she added to Livia, “I was just about to call you, actually.”

“What are the rest of us? Chopped liver?” Mercutio lifted a hand to his heart in a show of hurt that no one believed.

And Isabella was all too happy to put salt in his fake wounds. “It’s hard to have a group date when you’re the only one who isn’t dating anyone, cuz.”

Mercutio rolled his eyes, trying not to smile at Isabella’s dig because that would be showing her that she won that one, and moved his gaze to the handful of men that were in the crowd around Benvolio. “The night’s still young, Iz.”

“Ugh,” Rosaline muttered, disgusted by Mercutio’s implication, and she rolled her eyes causing the ladies in the group to giggle at her reaction.

“It can be a party instead,” Romeo suggested, grinning, and Mercutio snapped his fingers before pointing one at him, both for always having his back and for the great idea.

“That’s what I’m talking about! And for this to be a party, we’re gonna need food and booze.”

“Stella went to get drinks earlier but…” Escalus trailed off as he peeked over to the bar where Stella was still lingering close to Benvolio. “It looks like she got held up.”

“I was wondering about that; I saw her there when we came in,” Rosaline mused offhandedly, and she blinked in surprise when everyone’s gaze snapped over to her.

“Does it bother you?” Livia asked as nonchalant as she could, and the group seemed to take a collective breath and leaned in, awaiting her answer.

Stella was one of Benvolio’s best friends, along with Romeo and Mercutio, and Rosaline knew that Stella and Benvolio were a thing once.

(They had met at the height of the boys’ partying and promiscuous days during their ‘strip club phase’. By chance they had bumped into each other after one of Stella’s sets and began talking. Benvolio found himself coming back to her club, Stella found him grounding in his difference from any other man she’d ever had to deal with, an escape when the other customers were overwhelming, and they become permanent fixtures in each other’s lives ever since.

One night Benvolio had come in with a bloody lip and a laceration on his head that Stella tried to clean to the best of her ability in one of the private rooms before putting an ice pack on it.

“Let’s run away, Stell; have a fresh start, a better life,” Benvolio said as he winced from the pressure on his injury.

It was a topic of conversation that they had often, one where they would imagine a better life for themselves as a way to get away from the actual life they were trapped in. Sometimes Benvolio would be a pilot with her his flight attendant; other times he was a sketch artist for the police department while she was a counselor for the victims. But there was one that Ben always went back to, one that Stella knew was his real dream.

“And whatever will we do, Benvolio?” Stella asked, playing along as she always did.

“Well, I’d be an architect.” And there it was, his default answer. It was a little bittersweet, because she never had a real dream like that to counter his, and one day he would finally go after it and she would be left behind. “And you—”

“ _I_ have a very limited skill set,” Stella finished for him, her voice a little harder than she intended.

Benvolio’s face fell slightly, because that was of no fault of her own, his eyes softening before glinting in determination. “We can use that. Pole dancing classes _are_ a thing, y’know. You could teach it. And you know some other styles which could be refined if need be. You could even learn new stuff.”

Stella’s heart pounded so loud in her chest that it almost deafened her. They never really got so in depth with it before. Something changed; she knew Romeo and Mercutio had wanted to get their own place with Ben but that he was dodging giving a straight answer, and that Benvolio’s injuries were getting increasingly worse the past few weeks—had he finally, _thankfully_ , reached his limit? They were on the edge of a precipice, nearing the point of no return. “So...what? I’m gonna open my own dance studio?”

“Eventually, sure. There’s no limit to what you can achieve, Stell.” Benvolio turned, putting the ice pack aside so he could grab onto both of her hands. “Leave this life behind. Run away with me.”

“You’re serious this time, aren’t you?”

“There might not be a next time,” Benvolio said with a humourless little laugh, stated so simply that it was alarming, and the admission caused his eyes to water as it always did when he stopped lying to himself about how his uncle hated him or how toxic their relationship really was. “ _Please_. I don’t want to leave you here.”

Tears began to well in _her_ eyes now, and Stella cupped his cheek as she searched his face as if her answer was hidden between his clenched jaw and his furrowed brows. Eventually though she nodded, her smile watery. She had always felt helpless when he spoke of his troubles or came to her beaten up by his own flesh and blood. Maybe she could help him and herself by doing this, allow herself to dream. Whatever was ahead, they could face it together. “Okay, yes! Let’s do this. God knows you boys need a woman looking after you.”

Benvolio knew that Mercutio’s cousin Escalus was in the social work field, and though Escalas had said he couldn’t help personally since it wasn’t the exact field he was in, he had contacts from some advocacy groups he participated in that could help.

And help they did; Stella had opened her own little studio a few months ago, and the others were not so subtly trying to convince Rosaline to take a few classes because, at least according to Mercutio, “Everybody—and by everybody I mean Ben—loves a good pole and lap dance, Capulet.”

Coupled with Benvolio’s final year of his architecture program upcoming, they never had to play the ‘what would we be if we ran’ game ever again.)

It had been years since Benvolio and Stella realized they were better as friends than significant others. Besides, she and Benvolio eventually landed upon each other after orbiting one another for forever it seemed, and Escalus finally decided that it was not a conflict of interest to make a move on Stella, so he did. So no, Rosaline wasn’t bothered by Stella hanging around Benvolio in an ironic reversal of her driving people away as he had done for her when she had worked at the strip club.

What _did_ bother her was the fact that Benvolio was being bothered so much that it was necessary, but she wasn’t going to tell them that. “No, why should it?” Rosaline answered stubbornly, and everyone let out an exasperated sigh at once. They exchanged looks before nodding, and Rosaline, sitting at the end of the booth, was forced to stand as the other began shuffling out.

“Okay, new plan; Esc, Capulet and I will meet up with Stells and grab the drinks and grub,” Mercutio said as he got to his feet.

“Izzy, dance with me!” Livia pulled on Isabella’s hand once they had the seats free to slide out, and Isabella smiled as she was led out onto the open space.

“Jules and I will watch the booth,” Romeo offered, though they were the only ones left so it wasn’t as if they had much of a choice. Not that they were complaining, since they were most likely just going to make out anyway.

As they headed towards the bar, with Mercutio walking on Escalus’ other side, Rosaline asked Escalus, “Does it bother _you_?” as her way of making small talk.

Escalus thought about it for a moment—one of the changes she had noticed since he had started dating Stella—before shaking his head. “Not if it’s Benvolio. But if it’s someone else…” He trailed off, but Rosaline didn’t need him to finish what he was going to say to understand; she was, after all, feeling the same way.

“Your protectiveness always was one of your better traits,” Rosaline teased as she remembered Escalus’ many shows of territory. “Didn’t you punch the dean of law’s son in the face when he suggested you hand over Isabella to him and his frat bros for a few hours in order to join?”

Escalus laughed at the memory. “Other than the fact that Bella’s as straight as a zigzag line and would never have gone for it, that was against the rights I was at the school to study for and uphold. The President of the university seemed to agree with me anyway, considering he kicked the creep out, and told me that while the world could benefit from my social work that I had better learn ‘less physical ways of dealing with issues’.”

“Which you did.”

“Long enough to graduate, at least.”

Rosaline and Escalus smiled at one another; it was nice to be able to speak to one another, especially about the past, without it being awkward like it had been for a while after they had broken up.

Mercutio, of course, had to ruin the moment by saying, “If only _everyone_ could be so open with their feelings.”

Rosaline leaned forward slightly to look at Mercutio, knowing that the comment was directed at her, especially after that whole story about Escalus’ lack of control of his feelings. “You—”

“Escalus!” Stella greeted cheerfully, unknowingly stopping the potential verbal murder Rosaline was about to inflict upon Mercutio.

“Oh thank god,” Escalus said under his breath before smiling as he shared a kiss with Stella. “For a second I thought you might’ve drunk the bar dry.”

“Ha, ha,” Stella faked laughed, punching Escalus lightly on the arm. “Benvolio here was drowning in phone numbers so I figured I’d try to be a human shield with minimal success. But now that Rosaline’s here maybe they’ll finally get the message because nothing short of a makeout sesh will drive these vultures away and that was beyond my capabilities.”

There was a crash as Benvolio dropped a glass he had been in the middle of drying having finally caught sight of Rosaline after hugging Mercutio and shaking Escalus’ hand in greeting; she looked breathtaking. “Sorry, sorry, that was my bad,” Benvolio stammered as he bent down to clean up the broken pieces. Rosaline bit her bottom lip in an attempt to hide her pleased grin but the corners of her lips still turned upward, ruining her effort.

Juliet and Livia did well; Rosaline definitely owed them something now.

“Does Stells’ heroic act come with free drinks?” Mercutio asked, waggling his eyebrows as he caught the dish towel Benvolio threw at him.

“If it did, they wouldn’t be for _you_ ,” Benvolio stressed; he already knew he was going to have to cut Mercutio off at some point during the night and had no plans of giving him free booze to get him there quicker.

“What if I offered to do that makeout sesh with one of your admirers that Stells is reluctant to do?”

Benvolio opened his mouth to correct him—Stella meant make out with _him_ not his customers—but closed it when he realized that way would also work, though it would only take care of one customer...or all of his male ones, if Mercutio got enough alcohol in him. “Somehow that seems more self-serving than heroic and a reward in and of itself.”

“I’ll accept payment in liquid form,” Mercutio said as if Benvolio hadn’t spoken at all.

“So they won’t leave you alone, huh?” Escalus asked as he eyed the people that surrounded them. “You know, harassment done towards men is scantily reported—”

Benvolio was quick to raise a hand to stop Escalus from continuing, chuckling lightly. “It’s not that bad, Escalus, really. Most of them are harmless, it makes them more amiable to tips and I shred the numbers after my shift anyway.” His eyes flickered over towards Rosaline, hoping she wasn’t angry that he took the numbers even if he never kept them.

Rosaline’s face betrayed nothing, though, and Benvolio wondered if it was the calm before the storm or if she honestly didn’t care; he didn’t know which one scared him more.

Mercutio watched the silent exchange with hawk eyes.

Escalus frowned at ‘most of them’ and ‘amiable to tips’, drawing Benvolio’s attention back to him. “Benvolio, if they’re refusing to give you tips unless you give them something _sexual_ in return that is serious—”

Benvolio smiled warmly, reaching his eyes as they crinkled at the corners, and he reached over the bar to clap both of his hands onto Escalus’ shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “I appreciate the social justice tirade you’re about ready to do on my behalf, Escalus—”

“We could’ve had it all!” Mercutio groaned, remembering why he had wanted Escalus to go toe to toe with the bouncer.

Benvolio gave Mercutio a weird look—did he even want to know what _that_ was about—before returning his gaze to Escalus. “—And I will totally take you up on it if Rosaline protecting my ass fails. You got this, right love?” He removed a hand from Escalus’ shoulder to extend it towards her instead, winking as he did so.

Rosaline stared down at his hand and felt herself hesitating. Though she was no stranger to defending Benvolio this situation scared her more than Benvolio’s uncle because while she didn’t give a damn what his uncle thought she did care what _Ben_ thought. Guys hated jealous women, right? She should just play it cool. “You’re in your element, aren’t you? No one can navigate through this better than you. I don’t think anyone needs to do anything.” That sounded like she trusted in him, right? Because she did; it wasn’t him she had a problem with.

But Stella winced as if she had been physically hit, Escalus closed his eyes and bowed his head as if what she’d said weighed him down, Mercutio ‘tsked’ and looked away, highkey annoyed, and Benvolio’s smile slowly dimmed as he retracted his hand that she never did take.

“Yeah...some things never change, right? There’s no off button for all this,” Benvolio joked lightly as he gestured to himself, and Rosaline relaxed slightly; at least one of them was acting normally. He held her gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat and putting on a stronger smile, looking at them as a whole. “So what can I get everyone?”

As Benvolio left to help Escalus and Stella carry two trays full of drinks back to their booth and took some time greeting Romeo and Juliet and waving to Isabella and Livia, Mercutio addressed Rosaline without sparing her a glance, keeping his eyes on Benvolio instead.

“Are you embarrassed by Ben or something?”

Rosaline narrowed her eyes at him and turned to face him directly. “Excuse me? You’ve been acting more hot and cold towards me than usual. What’s your problem?”

Feeling as if Rosaline was pretending not to understand what he was saying, Mercutio twisted towards her. “My _problem_ is you taking every opportunity to hide the fact that you’re in a relationship with Ben like you’re ashamed of it, of him. Won’t admit you had lunch with him today, won’t even take his hand and give him a kiss to shut these customers up. Do you honestly not care if someone tries to take him away? At this point I ship fucking Esc with Ben more than you because he acted more like a worried partner.”

Rosaline stared at Mercutio, stunned—though some of the shock came from the use of the word ‘ship’ because who said that in real life really—and she opened her mouth but nothing came out. It was just as well since Benvolio returned, placing his hands upon the bar and putting most of his weight on them as he eyed Mercutio and Rosaline who had stayed behind. “Don’t tell me you want _more_ drinks?”

“I know I can double fist with the best of them, Ben,” Mercutio started, and Benvolio rolled his eyes and smirked at the double meaning, “But no, not yet. Give me some credit. We’re on food duty. You always tell me I can’t get wasted on an empty stomach.”

“And yet you never listen me...until now.” Benvolio added suspiciously, debating whether to push them in finding out what they were up to. But he knew them well enough to know they would deflect the topic and if Rosaline was in on it then it couldn’t be that bad. She trusted her to do the right thing. “All right, gimme your orders. I’ll wait for them and bring them over; I’m due for a break anyway.”

After jotting down what everyone wanted to eat, Benvolio sent a smile Rosaline’s way before whispering something to a co-worker and disappearing into the back. As soon as he was out of earshot Rosaline had grabbed onto Mercutio’s arm and pulled him closer, ready to continue their conversation. “As if you wouldn’t be giving me hell if I was the crazy girlfriend instead.”

“There’s a difference between growling at everything that breathes in Ben’s direction and staking your claim so all these thirsty people know what’s up.” Mercutio shifted so he wasn’t leaning awkwardly in her direction, but surprisingly didn’t wrench his arm away like Rosaline had thought he would; he wasn’t mad, he was frustrated.

Rosaline searched his face as if waiting for the punch line, ready to call bullshit, but she never found it. Loosening her grip on his arm, she debated actually speaking about this with him of all people, but the topic was already brought up and he _did_ date Benvolio before…

Watching as different expressions crossed over her face as she debated something with herself, Mercutio realized she wouldn’t be giving this half a thought if she didn’t care about Benvolio and he ran a hand down his face because these two were _hopeless_ and they were already together. How could these be the same two people who gave great advice to everyone but themselves? “Oh, fucking hell. You two are so considerate of each other it’s sickening.”

The words snapped Rosaline out of her internal struggle, but a glance at Mercutio showed that it was said with more fondness than maliciousness.

“Will he preen and be a smug little shit for a solid five minutes if you’re all over him in front of these people? Without a doubt. But after a lifetime of being demeaned by his uncle I think he deserves that much.”

That and then some, Rosaline agreed silently with the nod of her head. That wasn’t even something she had thought of but that was a good problem to have, especially when the look just made her want to kiss the smirk off his face.

“...Just like there’s a fine line between keeping something private and keeping something a secret,” Mercutio added after throwing caution to the wind, fully expecting Rosaline to attack him for what he was about to say. But all he wanted was for Ben to be happy, and Rosaline did that, so he had to push forward. “I get not wanting to air your sex tape—”

“There’s no sex tape!”

“—That’s what they all say; there’s always at least _one_ —but it’s not fair to either of you to pretend like you’re not grossly in love with each other. I know enough about what happened between you and Esc to know that maybe you’re used to keeping a relationship hidden, but you don’t have to do that with Ben.”

Rosaline wanted to scoff because she _knew_ that, but then she did literally pinch her sister to stop her mentioning her lunch date with Benvolio and maybe their PDA was a little lacking and Ben never pushed it, always followed her lead, and—

Mercutio had gradually leaned away from Rosaline, and though there were times that he grip on him had tightened she didn’t hit or scream at him as he had expected she would. He could almost see when the light bulb went off in her head and it was only then did he extract himself and straighten himself out. “Well, it looks like my work here is done. I’ll take my payment in the form of manual labour so food duty is all yours now!”

Before Rosaline could even blink Mercutio was halfway back towards the booth, his track record for listening to Benvolio and not drinking on an empty stomach still intact. She rolled her eyes, wondering if that was always Mercutio’s plan, and speaking of plan what did he mean by his work was done? Was the entire night orchestrated just so that they had this conversation? But that would mean—

“Where can I get a ticket?”

An unfamiliar voice interrupted Rosaline’s epiphany and she turned to see a man standing a few feet behind her. She looked around as if to make sure the man was talking to her, but most of the crowd had dispersed once Benvolio left and the handful that remained were already engaged in conversation; the man was definitely talking to her. “A ticket for what?”

“To get in line for a chance to speak with you. I couldn’t help but notice the steady stream of company you’ve had and…” The man actually paused to look Rosaline up and down slowly, “It’s no surprise why.”

Rosaline shifted uncomfortably; she had worn what she did for Benvolio, not anyone else. “I’m flattered, really, but this ‘line’ is closed. I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend.”

The man chuckled lightly as if he had heard that line before. “Well, since your ‘boyfriend’ isn’t here at the moment maybe I could hold his place in line.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“C’mon, not even one drink—”

“I believe _my girlfriend_ isn’t interested, so maybe you should take the hint and back off.”

Rosaline and the man turned towards the new voice to find Benvolio standing there, both hands holding a tray full of food.

“Please,” Benvolio added unnecessarily, with the fakest smile he could muster, because he obviously was _not_ asking but he _was_ always polite. His eyes were hard, his jaw line tense and his fingers white from how hard he was gripping the trays.

The man let out a stronger laugh this time, pointing at Benvolio as he looked back at Rosaline. “You almost had me there, but maybe you should’ve picked someone who wasn’t flirting with half the joint to pretend to be your boyfriend. I saw you didn’t even take his hand, so he clearly didn’t charm you.”

The muscle in Benvolio’s jaw ticked at the implication that this man was watching him, watching _Rosaline_ , for any prolonged length of time. Rosaline looked bothered that one inaction on her part was coming back to haunt the both of them and it made Benvolio even more incensed that this man made Rosaline think, even for a second, that any of this was her fault.

“We don’t have to prove anything to you. The point is she doesn’t want you around so you should leave her alone.”

Two things happened that made Benvolio grateful: the man turning away from Rosaline to approach him and that the trays he carried gave him a buffer as the man tried to get into his space to talk.

“Look, the chivalry act’s a cute tactic but I got this. Why don’t you go bark up one of the million other trees blowing your way, okay?”

Benvolio let out a humourless laugh, turning to put down the trays of food on the bar; he had hoped he could talk the man away, but now he was realizing even if he did manage to do that, he didn’t want this man bothering any other woman inside. It was best to just get security to escort him out. “Look, I don’t want to fight you—” Benvolio started as he turned back towards the man, but a punch suddenly hit him in the face as he did so, sending him crashing back into the bar and knocking over the food he had just set down.

“Good, that’ll make this easier,” the man said as he lifted his fists, readying to strike again.

“ _Ben_!” Rosaline screamed, and the commotion was catching everyone’s attention; Romeo and Mercutio were already running over to help, though they were sidetracked by the man’s wingmen; Isabella and Livia circled around trying to get to Rosaline; and Escalus, Stella and Juliet went to get the bouncers.

Benvolio shook his head more out of shock than pain, because it had been a while since he’d taken a hit but it was nothing compared to what his uncle had inflicted on him for years. Not bothering to wipe away the hot food that stuck to his arms, Ben spun and tackled the man in one swift motion, sending them both to the ground. Isabella and Livia pulled Rosaline back, though Rosaline struggled against them trying to get to Benvolio as he wrestled the man onto his stomach, his knee pushing down on the man’s back as he restrained his arms.

“You were saying?” Benvolio taunted the man struggling beneath him. “I dare you to come near her again, I _dare_ you.”

Not long after a bouncer arrived, flanked by a couple of police officers, and Ben reluctantly released the man over to them, along with the man’s friends who had fought Romeo and Mercutio. As the bar employees dispersed the crowd and their friends eventually returned to the booth to give them some time alone, Rosaline led Benvolio over to the nearest bar stool and patted it.

“Sit,” she told him gently before asking for an ice pack from one of his coworkers. Once she had it in hand, Rosaline stepped in between Benvolio’s legs, hands lightly tracing over the edges of his already forming bruise before placing the cold compression over it.

Benvolio let out a slight hiss but said nothing for a while, looking up at Rosaline silently with his one good eye as she frowned—at him or his injury he wasn’t sure, not that it mattered. “M’sorry,” he apologized softly.

Confusion spread over Rosaline’s face. “For what?”

“For getting into a fight...for telling that guy that you’re my girlfriend.”

“Well, he started it,” Rosaline childishly said in his defense. “And I am your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

Unconsciously, Benvolio brought his hands up to rest at her waist, smiling at her words. “As long as you wish it. But I know you wanted to keep it hush hush.” As he said that he realized where he put his hands and shifted to remove them before Rosaline cursed and placed them back where they were.

“I hate it when Mercutio’s right,” she muttered. At Benvolio’s questioning gaze Rosaline continued. “I think our friends just did an intervention on me, on us, and he was the ringleader.”

“Merc stirring up shit sounds legit,” Benvolio said with a laugh, loving his rhyme. “What is it about us that’s the problem?”

Rosaline smiled at the fact that he said that whatever the problem was, it was on the two of them, not just her. “Apparently we’re too considerate of one another. I should tell you that...I don’t like all those people drooling over you.”

Benvolio moved the ice pack to look at her with both eyes, full of wonder and disbelief. “You’re jealous?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, but he was so sure that she was going to be mad at _him_ , not his customers, because that was what he was used to.

“They should just take their drinks and go. You’re not there for their gawking enjoyment,” Rosaline said, not directly admitting it but her avoidance was answer enough for him, who was all too used to her roundabout answers.

“You’re jealous,” Benvolio said more confidently now, perking up in his seat with a large smirk spreading across his face. “You think I’m gorgeous, you wanna kiss me, you wanna—”

He was cut off as Rosaline did lean in to kiss him, doing as she always wanted to do when he got like this; kiss the smirk off his beautiful face. But it only made Benvolio grin wider and cause her to start smiling into the kiss, too, and they pulled apart when the need for air became a necessity. But kissing him was like drinking in water, also a necessity to living, and she stole tiny kisses in between breaths. “I regret ever watching that movie with you. Being smug is the complete opposite of being congenial, you know.”

“But you _do_ think I’m gorgeous, and you _did_ just kiss me,” Benvolio pointed out, wanting to milk the moment for all it was worth, and Rosaline rolled her eyes as she ran her hands through his hair and left them there, stuck between his strands. If telling and showing him was all it took to get him lit up like a Christmas tree it was well worth it.

“I was also told that we should be more like _this_.” Rosaline gestured to how they were right then, wrapped up in each other. “I know that’s on me; I didn’t mean to keep us a secret or anything. I’m not ashamed of you. I’m just…”

“A little messed up?” Benvolio finished for her. “So am I. Everyone is. I don’t mind going at your pace. I kinda noticed when you failed to update your Facebook status. It’s like a cardinal rule that a relationship isn’t fully real unless it’s on Facebook.”

Rosaline leaned back slightly to look at him fully so he could feel the weight of her judging. “Facebook? Really? No one even uses that anymore—”

“Cardinal. Rule.”

Rosaline rolled her eyes but still reached for her handbag all the same, pulling out her phone. “You should know, with all the times you changed it in high school,” she mumbled as she fiddled with her phone.

Every time Benvolio tried to peek at what Rosaline was doing she’d tilt her phone away until he eventually gave up, focusing on her words instead. “Well, this is the last change that I’ll be making for a while,” he promised before another thought hit him. “Wait, you were cyber stalking me in high school?”

“Is it stalking if we were friends on Facebook? Your notifs always blew up my phone,” Rosaline said defensively before finishing whatever she was tinkering with on her phone and putting it away, returning her gaze to him. When she saw his knowing smirk at her answer she pushed against his chest.

“Ow, hey, injuring the injured here!” Benvolio laughed, showing that he was obviously not hurt by her push.

“More importantly, what do you mean ‘for a while’? Planning on breaking up with me sometime in the future?” Rosaline turned the questioning back onto him, raising an eyebrow at him.

Before Benvolio could reply his phone buzzed in his pocket and as he reached for it he heard their friends whooping from their booth. “About damn time!” Romeo hollered over to them.

Confused and curious at the same time, Benvolio finally checked his phone and froze at what he saw on Facebook.

‘Rosaline Capulet is in a relationship with Benvolio Montague.’

It almost broke Rosaline’s heart to know that something so simple could mean so much to Benvolio, and she didn’t fight as he pulled her down for a slow, tender kiss.

“No,” Benvolio said when they pulled apart, nuzzling their noses together before resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t plan on breaking up with you sometime in the future.”

Rosaline smiled sweetly, giving him a quick kiss before their friends’ yelling pulled them apart.

“Hey lovebirds, come celebrate your Facebook status!” Isabella shouted as she held up her glass in a salute, the others following suit in raising theirs too.

When Rosaline looked back at Benvolio he shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join them’ before lifting her left hand to his mouth and placing a kiss there. They never let go of each other’s hands, even as she tugged him to his feet and led the way back to their friends, and Benvolio ran his thumb back and forth along her knuckles, lingering on her ring finger.

No, he didn’t plan on breaking up with her; he planned on doing the exact opposite.

**Author's Note:**

> I lowkey want to write a sequel where they all go to Puerto Rico and Rosvolio basically dance so dirty they may as well have sex on the dance floor because I'm currently addicted to Despacito.
> 
> Then again I also want to write a PacRim AU and a camp counselor AU because BEN + KIDS TBH so who knows what's next honestly RIP me.


End file.
